If I put my hand
On the fogged glass
Will it erase words
So crass
Will it uncover
Clearness
Where there once
Was a strange menagerie
Over the lake's horizon
In a fuscia-water coloured vision
Waking in the early morning
To this realness
Come to life
Had to escape it
And face what
Has passed
Leave it all behind
If I place my sight
In the right place
These fears might slip away
But my dear
Our world is-
A gray-washed haze
My hand releases
From the mirror's grasp
My eyes see through
To what it was at last